


A Time to Surrender (A Time to Forgive)

by Beanwhile



Category: Sofia the First (Cartoon)
Genre: Deleted Scenes, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5250569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beanwhile/pseuds/Beanwhile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fake amulet crumbles in Cedric's hands, he retreats to his workshop to cry. Wormwood comforts him the only way he can, and crying is avoided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Time to Surrender (A Time to Forgive)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hereticality](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hereticality/gifts).



> A humble gift for Hereticality who gave me a crash course in raven behaviour. Fic takes place immediately after 2x10: Sofia the Second. Title from Kamelot's song _Don't You Cry_.

                Cedric trudges back to his tower. The route to it seems endless: he goes through corridors and climbs staircases, dragging one foot in front of the other. He rarely lifts his gaze from the floor, watching his step in a weak attempt to pass the time. His body is so heavy he won’t put it beyond himself to slump down on the floor and remain there. Who would pay him any attention? At worst, Baileywick would try to sweep him away with the trash.

                The staircase leading to his rooms is the worst: steep and rather slippery, it rounds up and on, and on, and on, around the wall. He can’t even muster the strength to transport himself in his workshop. A spell like that requires some energy, be it even the vigour of spite and anger, and he feels depleted of both. All he wants is to rest for a while. This is not the first time his attempt to steal the amulet has been thwarted, yet it hit him unusually hard. He tries to find a reason, but no reason comes: there is only the weariness. He will call it a day earlier than usual. He can give himself this much at least.

                His hopes to reach the bed crumble when he opens the door to his lair and finds it wrecked by Wormwood’s anger.

                Of course. _Of course._

                He is tempted to ignore everything and go straight to bed, but then his wandering eyes, still assessing the damage, fall onto the portrait of his parents. His father’s voice surfaces to his mind, unbidden: _a true sorcerer always takes care of his workplace_. Odds are, if he doesn’t clean it now, Baileywick would surely come asking for some trifle of a thing and leaving, in return, a snide remark on housekeeping and decency. Cedric sighs and bends down to pick up what’s left of _All About That Spell_.

                He is nearly done, and is contemplating a cleaning spell to remove the litter from the floor, when a flap of wings and a blow of wind announce Wormwood’s entrance. The raven flutters his wings, and then silence settles back again. Cedric, who has his back turned to the perch, does not turn to look at his companion. Something tells him Wormwood would not spare him a glance either.

                When Cedric does turn around to put aside the books he has to repair the next day (he has no strength to do it now) his assumption is confirmed: Wormwood’s head is turned away from the desk and his eyes are examining what Cedric assumes to be a particularly interesting part of the floor. His expression is hard to read. At first, it seems like he is deep in thought, but the mess of a lair is proof there’s more to it. Cedric drops the ruined books on the floor of the lab and, avoiding looking at Wormwood again, goes to close the window. When he descends to his bed quarters, Wormwood does not follow.

                The lower level is cool and inviting after a day spent in intense physical exertion. The twilight is heavy on his lids and he rushes through undressing, anticipating the softness of the sheets upon his skin. There are no eyes to judge him here. He has changed into his nightshirt and is splashing water on his face (cool enough to somewhat refresh him, but nothing that could stop him from going to bed) when Wormwood flies in. Knowing his temper, Cedric expects another mischief: messing the sheets, turning over the water basin, splashing water everywhere to the cacophony of his own shrill squawking. At this point, Cedric can feel nothing but weariness at the prospect.

                Sure enough, Wormwood lands right in the basin: as Cedric has just finished using the water, the timing is rather fortunate. The ripples splash against the rim, but hardly a drop lands on Cedric. He looks down at Wormwood and Wormwood looks back, expectantly.

                A soothing feeling blooms in Cedric’s chest, and some of the weariness is melted away. He raises his arm and hangs a second, smaller towel on it. Wormwood hops onto it and lets Cedric pat dry the water from his legs and talons. The raven does not look again at Cedric, but the familiarity of his weight on Cedric’s arm is reassuring. Wormy is not one to forgive so easily, but his willingness to be tended to is a good sign on most days.

                When it’s done the raven flies and settles on his favourite spot on the headboard. Cedric follows, and finally, _finally_ , slips into the bed. He savours every moment and every feeling, the cool texture on his skin, the dip of the mattress, the comfort that envelops him when he lies down. He turns around, plumps his pillow, stretches his legs. The bustle of the castle drones on in the early evening.

                Wormwood lets out a squawk and hops down next to Cedric; he pecks his ring finger a couple of times before closing his beak around it. Cedric smiles and runs his middle finger over Wormy’s beak to return the affection. Wormy blinks in satisfaction.

                With Wormy being agreeable again, Cedric reckons, thing will eventually be alright, and the amulet can wait another day.

 


End file.
